History
by Judgement-of-Jashin
Summary: Drocell's life before he became a doll.


The Past

_A tall brunette woman paced up and down, holding her baby close against her chest, humming gently as he cried. "London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down, My Fair Lady." Her sweet, melodic voice rang out into the dark night, until her child stopped crying. Gently, she laid him down in his cot. "London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down, My Fair Drocell."_

Drocell supposed that he should be human, but at the point that termites were falling out of his ear, and could move his joints in ways that parts of the body never should, he realised that his humanity had gone forever. He supposed he should be sad, but he could feel nothing at all.

He looked into the grimy mirror, seeing a pale stranger looking back at him. He could see this stranger's childhood, his family, his hopes and dreams. He reached for them, trying to grasp what was left of the man he once had been.

Drocell had been an adorable child. He was tall and slender, and ginger hair and lilac eyes had made him stand out amongst the small, chubby blonde and brunette children, but also made him very pleasing to the eye, and had earned him the affectionate nickname of _Shoga_. He was always happy and laughing, and was liked by almost everyone he met. It was difficult not to like such a sweet, loving young boy. He was very curious and interested in everything going on around him. When he grew up, he wanted to be a clown, so that he could make the world smile. He often said the world would be a better place if everyone could learn to smile again.

He grew up into a handsome young man, and decided to become a musician. And during one of his performances, he met the woman of his dreams. Her name was Kanari. She was a pretty young artist from London who didn't take life too seriously and was in love with the world. They courted for two years and finally, Drocell asked her to be his wife. Thrilled, she said yes, and a few months before the wedding, she fell pregnant. Drocell could not have been happier, despite what people thought of them.

But cruel fate took it all away from him. Kanari went into labour prematurely, and died during the labour. He promised to look after his child and give it the love it would have received from both him and Kanari. He named the boy Aoi, because of his bright blue eyes, just like his mother's, Kanari. Though still grieving over the loss of his love, he knew that he could pull through, for the sake of his son.

His child died a week later. Devastated, Drocell left London to get away from all the horror he had faced. He lived for a short time in the countryside, spending his days farming. He would play his instruments and sing for the villagers, who would cheer for his talent and tell him how amazing he was. Once, seeing their happy faces would have filled him with pride and joy, but he had long since forgotten how to smile.

The grief took over him. He was constantly upset, and angry with the God who had taken everything away from him. He hung a noose from the ceiling of the cottage he'd been living in since the death of Aoi, and stood upon a chair, to stare at the rope which would end his miserable existence.

He was scared, and he could not lie. It was in a human's nature to survive, and taking his own life was against every animalistic feature in his body, screaming for him to carry on living. But he could not. He couldn't live with the agony of loss anymore. When his lover and child died, they took part of his soul with them, and he was left now as an empty shell.

He looked out of the window at the Rolling Meadows outside, to see his neighbours. They were a young couple, playing outside, holding their child and brimming with pride. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched. That should be him and Kanari with Aoi. It wasn't fair. Why did they get to live and be happy? Why had he been forsaken, and his world pulled out from beneath him? Without wasting another second, he placed his head through the noose and kicked the chair out from beneath him.

His body flailed beneath him as his throat closed up and no air passed to his lungs. He had hoped that his neck would snap so that it was over quickly, but he had no choice now. At least now, sooner or later, it would all be over. His body ceased to move, and his vision blurred. He slipped in and out of consciousness, and for a few moments, he was granted a blissful sensation of peace and serenity.

There was a horrible snapping sound, and he fell to the floor, automatically gasping in air and coughing. He looked up to find a ghostly pale woman looking down at him, a knife in one hand, and the noose in another. He glared up at her. How dare she save him when he was beyond saving?

She held out a pallid hand. "I want to help you, and I believe you can help me." He wanted to turn away from her and attempt suicide again. However, he took her hand and let her lead him along. He told himself that it was fate for the angel to find and save him. But he knew that it was really her hair that had made him follow her. The short, messy white bob, so much like Kanari's...

She hated the world, and so did he. She told him that she was going to cleanse the world of all the sorrow and hatred, and that he could help her do so. It took him back to his childhood, where he had truly believed that making people smile was the answer to all of the world's problems. How naive he had been. He now realised that the only way to heal the world was to destroy the unclean in holy fire and spare only those who were pure of heart. Those happy souls who would commit no wrong. It meant that he himself would have to die, but it was a price he was willing to pay to save the world. He truly believed that this was now his calling. God had given him this sorrow so he could see the world for the dirty, rotten place it was, and cleanse it for Him. He was the saviour now.

In the recesses of his mind, Drocell knew he was delusional. The grief must have made him totally insane. For a starter, no matter how many people they killed, there would always be sorrow and grief. There would always be dark, silent people who had more than their fair share of sadness. It was just the way the world worked. Yet, Angela had given him a purpose in life, and it was better than living in despair.

"Drocell." She had said his name in such a sweet, melodic voice on that evening, as the sun set and cast a gorgeous orange glow upon her flawless face. "It is time." She turned to face him, and held him gently yet firmly with her hands on his shoulders. She leant in and their lips touched. His heart fluttered, but it felt wrong. This was not the woman he loved. And in that second, he snapped out of the dark shadow of grief and realised how wrong he had been.

Yet it was too late. He felt something seep into him via his lips, and that was all he remembered. After that, he woke up in a dark room in the form he now occupied. He was literally a lifeless shell controlled by the woman he thought was saving him from his turmoil, but was actually using him. He was, quite literally, her puppet, and he killed so many innocent people. But it no longer mattered. He was not human, and did not feel anything. There was no emotion as he slashed at them with a knife. No remorse as their blood spattered against him. No flicker of humanity as their guts spilled out of their twisted bodies and they let out a final, gurgled scream.

But now Angela was dead, killed by that filthy demon. He couldn't say he cared very much. He tried as hard as he could to hate Angela for what she'd turned him into, but he still felt nothing towards her. It just meant that there was nothing left for him. There was no purpose for him. He supposed he would have to stay hidden in his cellar until the termites ate his body away. It was a slow and agonising death, but one which he deserved. He deserved to suffer as much as possible for the crimes he had committed. He supposed he could end his own life faster, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. How could he face God after what he had done? More importantly, how could he face Kanari and Aoi? He had attacked that young boy - what was his name? Ciel? - Without remorse. Even when he stopped and realised that Aoi would be about his age, he carried on trying to kill him. Because it didn't matter. How could he face his son, the most important thing in the world to him, when he had been so heartless? So instead, he would wait for the termites to kill him, and hope that in that time, his God, his lover, his son, all of them, would forgive him.

He looked into the mirror at the stranger staring back, and realised he was closer to this person after reminiscing. He hoped it was the first step to recovering his humanity, and gaining the ability to deserve to be with his beloved family. However, after all of the merciless killings and crimes he had committed, he highly doubted anything would make him deserving of that ever again.

He twitched his lips stiffly upwards, trying out the smile he had not donned for so many years. And for a second, he saw everyone. His mother, his father, Kanari and Aoi. They were all there in his reflection smiling back at him. And for a perfect second, he was peaceful. But they disappeared, and he was left cold. "Someday I will be reunited with you." He droned monotonously, yet he meant every word.

His memories, the only thing left, were fading. He knew that his mind would soon erase them, and then he would truly have nothing. So he revisited all of them, no matter how painful they were, whilst he still could. And whilst he did, he found himself humming 'London Bridge' to himself. He didn't understand why, but the song made him feel peaceful, and a little bit drowsy.

He turned away from the mirror, shaking his head clear of thoughts (and some of the little bugs inside of him) and walked along, his joints moving stiffly.

"London ba shi o chi ru, o chi ru, o chi ru.  
>London ba shi o chi ru, My fair Lady.<p>

Tetsu to hagane de tsukure, tsukure, tsukure.

Tetsu to hagane de tsukure, My Fair Lady.

Tetsu to hagane ja mageru, mageru, mageru.

Tetsu to hagane ja mageru, My Fair Lady.

Kin to gin de tsukure, tsukure, tsukure.

Kin to gin de tsukure, My Fair Lady.

Kin to gin ja nusumareru, nusumareru, nusumareru.

Kin to gin ja nusumareru, My Fair Lady.

Rou to ishi de tsukure, tsukure, tsukure.

Rou to ishi de tsukure, My Fair Lady.

Rou to ishi ja kuchihateru, kuchihateru, kuchihateru.

Rou to ishi ja kuchihateru, My Fair Lady..."


End file.
